


The One Where They Apologize

by Kedreeva



Series: The One Where... [7]
Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: Apologies, Multi, Threegulls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:31:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5563636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kedreeva/pseuds/Kedreeva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Audrey has had enough of this silly fight, and works to get the boys to apologize to one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where They Apologize

**Author's Note:**

  * For [serendipityxxi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipityxxi/gifts).



            Audrey arrives home to find a small package sitting on the front porch. It is addressed to her, and she feels a certain amount of relief as she picks it up and takes it inside the house. As she takes off her shoes at the door, she tucks the package under one arm and spares a glance at Nathan sitting on the couch. Alone.

            “Where’s Duke?” she asks as she passes him by, heading for the kitchen to find a knife with which to open her package. Nathan grunts, and Audrey tamps down on the urge to yell at him. There’s been enough of that the past three days.

            Instead, she pries open the padded envelope and slides the contents onto the pristine kitchen counter. While rummaging through the junk drawer for a pen, she pulls out her phone and sends a text to Duke.

            _I need to see you immediately, hurry_.

            The reply doesn’t take long; Duke’s not mad at _her_.

            _On my way. What’s wrong?_

            She smiles, and tucks her phone back into her pocket instead of answering. She hopes that Duke spends the entire drive to their house worrying about what catastrophe has happened. She hopes it reminds him that certain things aren’t worth staying angry over in light of the bigger picture.

            Finally, she has collected two pens that work and pulled the two items from her delivery out of their plastic wrappers. Nathan has taken an interest in what she is doing, his eyes tracking her movement over the top of his book.

            “Parker?” Nathan says, and it’s a lot of questions all wrapped up into one cautiously curious tone.

            She crosses the room, leaving her plans on the kitchen counter, and takes a seat in the recliner rather than next to him. The decision sets Nathan on edge, clearly raising his red flags, and he folds his novel closed and sets it on the end table beside him. She follows the movement, and then flicks her eyes up to catch his gaze.

            “Duke’s on his way over,” she tells him, sees the way he straightens, sees the way his eyes go cold and worried.

            “Audrey, it’s not-” Nathan begins.

            “Nathan,” she says firmly. “It’s been three days. We’re dealing with this, one way or another.”

            With a sigh, Nathan sinks back into the couch and crosses his arms, looking very much like a small, pouting child. Audrey leans back in the recliner to wait, finger tapping against the soft fabric of the chair’s arm.

            Fortunately, they don’t have to wait long. Audrey hears the roar of the Tramp’s engine as Duke pulls up to the house, and she clambers out of her chair to fetch her supplies. Just as she reaches them, Duke flings open the front door and hurries through it, freezing at the sight of both his people alive and well.

“Are you okay?” he asks, not really to either of them in particular.

            “Everything’s fine,” Audrey tells him, satisfied that he seems more freaked out that something could have happened than that she had called him to the same room as Nathan. That is something at least. “Have a seat.” When Duke automatically moves toward the recliner, Audrey makes a dissenting noise and he freezes. “That’s my seat.”

            Nathan sighs and sits up. “She’s staging an intervention,” he says, having had more time to resign himself to this fate.

            Duke cottons on to the situation, and Audrey has to fight not to scold him for the way his expression closes off at Nathan’s words. However, he doesn’t argue, just takes a seat on the couch next to Nathan and doesn’t look at her.

            With a roll of her eyes, Audrey crosses the small space and drops one of the items into each of their laps, and then hands them each a pen. Duke picks his up first, brows furrowing as he reads over the print. Nathan follows suit a little more grudgingly, but he is the first to visibly hide his smile.

            “You want us to… fill these out?” Duke asks incredulously, holding up the small notepad of pre-written formal apologies.

            “Yes I do,” Audrey tells him. “Both of you. _Sincerely_ ,” she adds, pouring authority into the word. Duke shrinks down a little and Nathan is very busy Not Looking at her. Good, she thinks.

            Both boys sit there for a few minutes, eyes fixed on the papers in their hands, and Audrey’s not sure if they are reading them thoroughly or trying to determine how to fill in the blanks. Eventually, Duke takes a steadying breath, and begins to write. Nathan follows suit a moment later, although Audrey can tell he’s filling out the blanks in random order.

            When they have finished, they both look a little ill, and Audrey thinks it serves them right. Having to fill out an apology has hopefully highlighted their own behaviors to themselves, made them both understand how utterly ridiculous they are both being. She scoots to the edge of the recliner and folds her hands in front of her.

            “Who wants to read theirs first?” Audrey asks, and Nathan actually _raises his hand_ and Audrey’s not sure how they arrived here, but she motions for him to go first.

            Nathan clears his throat and glances quickly to Duke before reading verbatim from his pad. “It has come to my attention that my… action of _using your favorite pan_ could be seen as- I checked “offensive” and “annoying.” I never intended to _ruin your pan_.” He glances up here, shoulders pulling in like he expects Duke to start yelling again, but Duke is just watching him with pursed lips, so Nathan continues. “I want you to understand that I was merely trying to _cook dinner_ , though I can see now that it may appear that I was _destroying your things_. Please accept my _embarrassed_ apology. Moving forward, I will attempt to _ask before cooking_. That said, I would very much appreciate it if you _teach me to use your cookware without yelling_. Sincerely… your boyfriend. Me.”

            By the time he reaches the end, Nathan’s cheeks have flushed red and he doesn’t look up at either of them. Audrey does, though- she takes in Nathan’s posture and turns her attention to Duke in time to see his broken, guilty look.

            “Your turn,” she tells Duke softly, sure now that this was actually exactly what they both needed.

            Duke looks down at the pad in his hands, expression taut and full of regret. “I’m sorry,” he breathes out, and then reaches across the space between himself and Nathan, tugs the pad of paper out of Nathan’s limp grasp. He tosses both pads carelessly on the coffee table as he slides from the edge of the couch, twisting around so that he is on his knees in front of Nathan.

            Audrey holds her breath, not daring to interrupt even though Duke has deviated from the plan. This should have happened _days_ ago.

            “Nathan, look at me,” Duke says gently, and Nathan does, drags his eyes up to meet Duke’s and whatever fight still clings to him drains away. Duke’s hands rest lightly on Nathan’s knees, thumbs rubbing soothingly. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” Duke tells him. “I know that you… you couldn’t have known pasta sauce would do that to my pan, or that cleaning it like that would- look, I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

            Nathan shifts uncomfortably, but doesn’t make a move to get away. “I’d never cooked with cast iron before,” Nathan admits guiltily. “I didn’t think-”

            “I know,” Duke interrupts, but not harshly. “It’s just, I- I’ve had that thing for a long time. It was the first pan I-” he cuts himself off then, looks down and reaches up with one hand to scratch at his neck in agitation. “I learned how to cook on that thing. It’s the only pan I took with me on the _Rouge_. It saved my life once. It’s just- it’s _important_ to me.”

            Then he looks up, and Nathan doesn’t look away this time. Audrey can feel her heartbeat in her fingertips, racing under her skin, because it is _rare_ to see her boys communicating like this, so open and sincere. She hadn’t realized how important Duke’s cast iron skillet really had been to him, or how guilty Nathan really had felt with how defensive he’d been since the incident.

            “But it- it’s not as important as you are,” Duke says, soft and ashamed. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice, and I shouldn’t have taken this long to apologize.” He lets out a huff and manages an anxious, hopeful smile. “And I- I can fix the pan, but I want to fix us, first.”

            “Nothin’ to fix,” Nathan mumbles, and then leans forward to kiss him. Duke rises into the motion with all the relief ditching three days of tension can afford.

            Audrey smiles, relaxing back into the recliner with the knowledge that they are going to be just fine.


End file.
